Red Rooms
by annaangel23
Summary: What happens when Red John goes after Lisbon and Jane is left to deal with the fallout? What happens when Lisbon is stuck in a crazy dream? Jisbon
1. Prologue

A/N: So, this story isn't particularly in any timeline of the show. I actually was just hit with inspiration and decided to write this. I'm new to the show, so most my history of the people are from wiki and what I've seen of the show so far lol. I've watched some old episodes that come on, and I have watched all the new season and have loved it! So, bear with me please. If anything is incorrect, you can simply PM me or leave a review. As far as I'm concerned this story is AU. I really hope you enjoy it, and I do love the feedback. :)

Title: Red Rooms

Author: Anna Angel

Rating: T-just in case ;)

Status: In Progress

Category: Agnst/Romance/Crime

Characters/Pairings: Jane/Lisbon

Plot: What happens when Red John goes after Lisbon and Jane is left with to deal with it? "Crime is terribly revealing. Try and vary your methods as you will, your tastes, your habits, your attitude of mind, and your soul is revealed by your actions." -_The ABC Murders_ (1936).

Disclaimer: No, I do not own "The Mentalist." It is already wonderfully written and if I did Jane and Lisbon would be together by now. Simon Baker would also have his shirt off every other episode ;) The only thing I own is this story and all the grammatical errors, or other errors, that are in this story.

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><p>Jane's breath caught in his throat. He looked at the door with the note taped to it. <em>No, not again<em>. Reading the simple note at least two times, Jane quickly barged into the apartment.

_Dear Mister Jane,_

_Missed me? I feared you have forgotten about me. I figured I'd leave you a little reminder. She was lovely by the way._

_-Red John_

Barging in the door, Jane looked around knowing exactly what he was looking for. Above the bed was the revolting sign. _No. _Patrick frantically looked around the room. She can't be dead. The sheets were tangled and on the floor. He knew it had been a struggle. That was his Lisbon for you. She was a fighter.

Looking around Jane saw a blood trail. He could feel the nausea in his stomach. He knew this feeling. He'd felt this way before. Slowly, feeling the pain creeping in his chest, he followed the trail expecting to find her body; her dead body. When he reached the end of the blood trail his breathe caught in his throat. He couldn't deny the puddle of blood in front of him, mocking him. Where was she? Had Red John been so cruel as to take the only piece he would have left of her with him? He had to find her.

He frantically began searching the apartment not caring that it was now a crime scene. He knew she had to be somewhere unless Red John really had been cruel enough to take her precious body from him. He searched nearly every room. Since there weren't that many rooms the search didn't take long. He could feel the tears sliding down his face at the cruelty of it all. His chest was tight, and he felt as if he couldn't breathe any longer.

Hearing a small noise, however, made his heart leap with some semblance of hope. Maybe the noise had been his beautifully wonderful Teresa calling out for his help. He didn't even consider that it may have been the perpetrator himself.

Taking off in almost a full sprint, Jane found himself in front of a closet. He quickly opened the closet wishing nothing more than to see his Teresa alive and well. The site that met his bright, sparkling, blue eyes was not quite what he'd hoped.

He knelt down next to the bloody body. _God that was a lot of blood_. He swallowed thickly before calling 911. "911, what's your emergency?"

Jane looked down at the body and could barely find his voice. "My partner, she's-she's-there's a lot of," he swallowed not quite able to find his words. "Blood, there's a lot of blood." He knelt down next to the motionless body praying, which he never did, that she'd be alright.

"Sir, Sir, we need you to stay calm, okay?" He nodded his head briefly flashing back to a time where the life had been taken; where two lives had been taken. No, he couldn't let that happen to her. "Sir?"

Clearing his throat he thickly replied, "Yes, I'm here. I understand." He put his fingers to her wrist desperately searching for the one thing that would bring him relief, a pulse. "She has a pulse, but it's very low." Before listing off anything else, he quickly told them her address and knew an ambulance was coming. "Come on Teresa," he silently whispered knowing the operator could hear him.

The events that preceded those very words were swift. For Jane, everything seemed to flash by in a blur. He can remember the blinding lights when the ambulance arrived and the medics taking her away. He remembered screaming out for her and being allowed to ride in the back of the ambulance. He knew once they hit the hospital he would have to depart from her. He didn't want to, but want really wasn't an option here.

As they wheeled her away, he collapsed in a waiting chair, or rather was escorted to one when he'd fallen to his knees on the hospital floor. He knew this was always a possibility that this would happen. Red John always took away the ones he loved. He shouldn't have gotten closed to her. He shouldn't have tagged along all these years on her team.

Stressfully, he rubbed his hands through his curly golden hair that now looked like a frazzled mess. If he hadn't been for him she wouldn't have been hurt by that monster. He knew that this was his breaking point with Red John. He would find that sick bastard, if not for himself than for Teresa and for his deceased wife and daughter. Red John would not only die at the hands of Patrick Jane, but he would suffer. Patrick was now sure of that fact.

Weeks, that's how long he'd felt he'd sat there in loathe, not only towards himself, but towards the sick man that did this to Teresa. However, it had only been a few hours, at least the time he'd checked. Apprehension shot through his body as he saw a nurse coming towards him. "Mr. Jane," she hesitantly asked.

TBC


	2. No News is Good News

_A/N: I loved your guy's reviews Sweetylove and Yellowbrite! Thank you both so much for the reviews they actually got me going on writing this chapter. So, for your guy's delight here's another chapter of Red Rooms! Soon we will be getting into a little bit of Red John investigating with the gang, minus Lisbon for now. ;) So my plan is to have a little switching between investigating Red John and each member visiting Lisbon at the hospital to look out for her. Tell me what you think! As before, all errors in this chapter are mine and no one elses. Once again loved the reviews and, without further ado, Red Rooms. _

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><p><em> Apprehension shot through his body as he saw a nurse coming towards him. "Mr. Jane," she hesitantly asked<em>

Jane stood knowing her tone meant bad news. "Yes, I'm Patrick Jane," he said as he tried to offer up a nice smile knowing that he failed miserably. "How is she?" He could tell by her movements none of the news was good. He kept quiet though, as uncharacteristic as that was, and listened to what she had to say.

"We've stopped most of the bleeding, but she's not in the clearing yet. Her injuries were pretty bad and the doctors were having a hard time stitching up her one of her organs." The nurse paused waiting for Jane to take in the news. He knew this and only wished she would continue. "She'll be in there for a few more hours at the least."

"And at the most," he couldn't help but ask.

"Why don't you call her family," she replied solemnly. Smiling sadly, the nurse turned and went back through the doors. Jane let out a breath and deciding it was best to call the others. He knew they'd want to be here for her as well and couldn't believe he hadn't thought to call them sooner.

Hours had past and the team had finally shown up. They were all quite sympathetic to Jane, and were worried about their boss themselves. Nobody blamed Jane, at least not enough to be angry with him. He wasn't the one who had attacked and stabbed her. Hell, if it hadn't been for him she might be dead by now.

Sitting with his hands on his forehead and elbows resting on his legs, Jane was feeling the guilt. He knew he shouldn't have become so close to her. She was his best friend after all, whether they both wanted to admit it or not. Red John was bound to target her or one of the other teammates eventually.

"It's not your fault, Jane. You didn't stab her," Van Pelt comforted as she laid a light hand on his shoulder. "You saved her life."

Jane shook his head refusing to look up, "She's not in the clearing yet." Rubbing his face with his hands, he stared at the wall across from him. "I knew this was going to happen. Anyone I get close to Red John takes them away from me. Teresa was-" He didn't know if he could find his words yet. "She was my best friend, Grace."

"Is your best friend," she insisted trying to get her point across. "She's not dead, Jane. She's lying on that operating table, and the doctors are doing all that they can to bring her back to us, okay?" Jane didn't look at her. "Fine, I'll be Lisbon then." She could only hope this would cheer him up a little bit. They were all hurting right now and worried, but it wouldn't help to sit and mope. Right now Lisbon just needed their support and strength. "Jane quite moping and do something. Sitting here isn't going to help us." Grace paused seeing what kind of effect that had on him.

Slowly turning his head, Patrick smirked. "You know she wouldn't have put it that nicely. Try something like, "Jane! Get your ass off that chair and get to work! And quite staring at me it's creepy!"" He smiled a bit. She was right it had helped ease his worries a bit. He shouldn't be moping about his Teresa. She was a strong one, a fighter, and right now she needed his strength.

Grace pushed his arm a little in a friendly manner. "See! Now why don't we both take her advice and quit moping. She'll be fine." Grace wasn't too confident about her statement, but was happy she could put Jane at come ease. Inside, she was secretly freaking out and praying that Lisbon would be okay. This team was like her family, and she wasn't ready to lose one of them just yet.

"Thanks Van Pelt," he said standing up as he saw the doctor coming towards them. His breath hitched in his throat, and he almost didn't want to hear the news.

"Are you here for Teresa Lisbon?" He looked at the group expectantly as they all nodded. "Well, the good news is she's stable and out of surgery. She's pretty banged up, but we've fixed most of her major injuries."

Jane knew there was more. He could tell by how the doctor was smiling a bit too widely and trying to make the good news sound too good. Finally finding his voice, he spoke up, "And what's the bad news?"

The doctor took a heavy breath. "She's unconscious and her situation is looking bleak." He looked down at his hands before delivering the rest of the news. "Like I said, she's stable, but with the injuries she's sustained-I would call her family and make the proper arrangements."

Jane was furious. This was the second time a medical professional had told him that. He just wanted to know what was going on with his partner! With an outburst of anger he leapt towards the doctor getting a little closer than necessary. "I just want to know what the hell is going on! You are the second person to tell me to do that, and I just want you tell me what's wrong with her now!" His breathing was heavy. Cho and Rigsby stepped forward grabbing Jane's arms to pull him back. He didn't resist them. He knew he shouldn't have yelled at the doctor like that.

Grace finally spoke up trying to help the situation a bit, "Sorry, he's just under a lot of stress. They were close. Please, continue." She nodded towards the doctor hoping he would continue with his report.

"The rest is up to her at this point," the doctor said trying to regain some footage.

"Can we-can we see her," Jane asked hopefully knowing his outburst was foolish.

"Yes, but one at a time." With that he walked away to attend to another patient.

Jane looked towards his team for the verdict of who was going in first. Rigsby decided he'd clear the silence and the decision, "How about Grace and I go call Lisbon's brothers while Cho goes and gets us all some coffee or something." He looked towards Grace for some confirmation and smiled when she nodded her head in agreement.

"Why do I have to get the coffee," Cho grumbled before being jabbed in the ribs by Rigsby's elbow. "Ow," he said rubbing his ribs. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he replied mustering up a small smile for Jane before turning to glare at Risgby.

Jane simply nodded his head knowing they were doing this for his benefit. "Thanks," he said gratefully before heading towards her room. He could hear as he walked away Cho saying 'Was that necessary,' before he was out of earshot of the group.

When he arrived at the room his breath hitched in his throat. She looked so frail not like the Lisbon he knew. There were dark circles under her closed eyes and bruises down her face and arms. She looked sick, and Jane had to keep reminding himself that it was only because she'd lost a lot of blood.

Hesitantly, he pulled up a chair next to her bedsid. "Oh Lisbon, this is all my fault." He rolled his eyes and bit out a laugh. "If I hadn't followed your team around and if we hadn't-you're my best friend you know." He felt foolish talking to her like this. He highly doubted she could actually hear him. "You fought him, Teresa. You fought Red John." He knew she was a fighter, but he beamed with pride knowing she had fought. Leaning forward grabbing her hand in his own, Jane winced at how cold her hand felt. That couldn't be good, right? "You have to come out of this. I refuse to let that bastard take one more good thing from me, and I know damn well this is not how you'd want to end it either. I know you Teresa, and I know you didn't put up a fight with that sick-minded freak for nothing. You're strong. You're one of the strongest people I know, and I know you won't go down without a fight." He took a deep breath just happy to be sitting there next to her hearing the beeps of the heart monitor. It was funny how such a simple noise could be such a comfort to him at a time like this. The beep was physical evidence that she was alive, though. That's what he had needed was something that told him she had a chance.

"You are going to come back to me, I know it, because the Teresa I know doesn't go down without a fight." He kissed her hand lightly before brushing away a piece of hair that had fallen in her face. He figured he would sit there for a little bit just watching her before sending in one of the others. Yes, for now he would sit here peacefully with his Lisbon giving her some of his strength to wake up. Then, he would return back to the group to bring Red John to down like that sick, bastard deserved.

TBC

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><p>AN: So thoughts? Like it? Hate it? :)


	3. Is This For Real?

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own any of the cast or the show. I only own my ideas.

A/N: Okay, I know it took me a while to post this up and I'm sorry. I wanted this to go in a certain way but I just couldn't quite get it the way I wanted to. Anyway, I would like to thank my unbelievably awesome beta lysjelonken, or otherwise known as Zanny. I _really_ appreciate her help. Now my mind kind of wandered with this chapter, because I started to think what if Lisbon was living some kind of different life in her coma. So from there, a story within a story blossomed. It shouldn't be too confusing, but I would really appreciate your thoughts. Anyway, without further ado...

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><p><strong>Red Rooms: Chapter 3-Is This For Real?<strong>

Jane woke with a start. His breaths were coming out as heaves as he rubbed his eyes, starting to remember where he was and why he was there.

Looking down, he saw Teresa and their conjoined hands. He remembered the night before and how he had gone back to her room after the group had left. However, he had not anticipated falling asleep in the chair next to her bed.

He pushed himself up hesitantly and released her hand so reluctantly that he felt she might disappear forever the moment they lose contact. He stretched the weariness and stiffness from his loins and looked around, wondering why none of the nursing staff had kicked him out. As soon as the thought came, so did the answer as a busybody nurse burst into the room, checking on Lisbon. By the look on her face, she was surprised to see him awake. And that expression of surprise was quickly followed by one that he had seen many times before, and dreaded – that pathetic expression of pity. The one that practically cried out 'I'm so sorry you wife is in this circumstance'.

It knocked the wind out of him. But before he could reply or comment, the nurse had jotted down Lisbon's vitals on her clipboard and was scurrying off to her next task.

He didn't follow her or argue, considering she was being nice enough not to get him in trouble for staying past visiting hours.

Instead, he averted his attention back to the tiny figure lying so uncharacteristically helpless in the hospital. He sat there and just looked at her for several minutes, in the blissful morning silence.

But then the silence was suddenly broken by a commotion outside; three very male voices were causing a raucous right outside Lisbon's hospital door. After a minute of listening closely, Jane had a good feeling on who the voices might be.

"Husband? What do you mean husband?"

"Yeah, if our sister was married she would tell us or, I don't know, invite us to the wedding?" This voice wasn't as angry. He seemed to be finding humour out of the whole situation.

"Okay, we might live a bit far from her, and we might not be all buddy-buddy all the time, but I think we'd know if our sister got married!" Jane winced as he realized he was going to have to charm his way out of this one, if he could at all.

They were Lisbon's brothers after all; with the trouble he had charming her, he could only imagine the difficulty of charming three stubborn, angry little Lisbon-boys.

Still, Jane managed to stifle a grin as the mental image of the poor nurse trying to manage three angry Lisbon's appeared in his mind. Through the door he could hear her try to calmly explain the situation, and how she _does _in fact has a husband. And he was right inside. Which was of course followed by more colourful language and demands to be let in.

The chaos only became worse when the three men came bursting in through the door. Within a split second, Jane knew immediately that his theory was correct. All three of them had many of the same distinct features of their sister – dark hair, fair complexion, blue-green eyes - but all of them were, as their sister, fiercely individualistic. One of the brothers, the youngest of the three, had a darker colouring and seemed _rougher; _he wore a leather jacket and clunky boots and had a few small scars on his face and hands. From what he'd heard, Jane had a pretty good idea which brother that was.

The next brother was slightly taller and looked an awful lot like Lisbon – even more so than the others. He, unlike the first brother, looked more professional, maybe a lawyer of some kind. Much more disciplined and by-the-book than the other two brothers, and even more so than his Teresa. This brother, he realized, might not be as flexible towards his eccentricities as Teresa.

The third brother had much lighter features – his hair browner than black, and his skin a tad paler -than either of the other brothers and looked to be the oldest of the three. He was wearing a very casual clothes, jeans and a t-shirt.

Jane smirked. All of them had one very vital thing in common with Teresa: honest eyes. He could read them like an open book.

And another thing they had in common with their sister – killer death glares. Glares that each of the brothers were throwing at Jane as they surrounded him intimidatingly.

He slowly stood up and smile his most charm-laden smile.

"You must be Teresa's brothers," he stated simply, not getting a chance to introduce himself fully before being interrupted by the darker, younger looking one.

"What's this about you being my sister's husband?" he asked, clearly very suspicious and more than a little disliking towards the strange blonde man next to his sister's hospital bed. Before Jane could reply or explain himself, the oldest one jumped in.

"Yeah, if our sister had a husband, don't you think she would have told us? We are her brothers after all." The third piped in. "I mean, I know we haven't been in that great of touch with her since we went to college, but I still think she would've mentioned you." Jane felt like he was being surrounded by three very tall vultures while he was the dead prey waiting to be attacked.

"I'm Patrick Jane. I consult with Lisbon and work on her team. As a psychic." He lied, grinning. He silently wondered how long he could trick these guys before they figured out his game. If they were anything like Lisbon, they'd figure it out quite quickly. "Since you guys are related to my dear partner Lisbon, I'll give you readings for free."

All three of the brothers glared at Patrick, wondering what his game was, each opening their mouths to interrupt. However, Patrick held up his hands.

"Ah-ah-ah... We'll start with you," he said pointing towards the youngest in the leather. "You must be the youngest of the family, Tommy. Let me guess; after your mother's death, you almost completely accepted Teresa as your mother whether she wanted to be it or not. By the looks of it, you must be the Bounty Hunter of the family. I feel great love for our dear Teresa radiating off of you." He grinned. "Let's see... You're living in a one-bedroom, pretty run-down apartment, though you could probably afford better, and like the exhilaration of the chase. Not one for useless luxuries, are you, Tommy?"

Patrick then turned to the oldest brother. "You're name's Andrew, am I right?" The man simply glared at him, not liking his game at all. Patrick took that as confirmation, plus the fact it was on his shirt. "I'm thinking fire fighter or stay-at-home dad for you." Patrick looked him up and down ready for any attack that might be thrown his way before continuing. "Oh, I sense a bit of bitterness towards your sister, but love as well. I can only assume the bitterness is because you were old enough to understand what your mother's death meant. You didn't want her to become the metaphorical mother of the house. You wanted her to stay your sister."

"You son of a bitch!" Andrew came hurtling towards him, his eyes red and murderous. Jane of course saw the attack coming and quickly avoided holding his hands up trying to calm the three of them down. It was times like these he wished his partner, who usually bailed him out of these situations, wasn't in a coma.

"Okay, let's calm down. Take some deep breaths." Patrick knew he crossed the line. Who was he kidding, even if Lisbon was here, she would've joined in the raid against him. She probably would've encouraged it, even thrown the first punch.

"For one, there's no such thing as psychics," said the middle brother finally speaking up. "And for two, you are definitely not married to my sister, so why the hell are you here?"

"Okay, promise Mister Macho over there won't hit me, and I'll explain everything including why your sister is here, I promise." He said, pointing at Andrew who was still hovering above him intimidatingly.

The middle brother seemed to contemplate the idea for a second before nodding his head and shooting a look to his brother. Andrew rolled his eyes, but obliged. "But anymore funny business and I swear I'll punch you so hard you'll be in a worse state than my sister," he said through clenched teeth.

"Alright, alright, I promise. No funny business." Jane sighed, so maybe it hadn't been the best idea to mess with Lisbon's brothers. "I really am a consultant for your sister's team. My name really is Patrick Jane. I can't believe Teresa's never mentioned me," Jane said a little saddened by the fact, but then again why would she? He was just her annoying consultant that got her into too much trouble most the time. Sighing he continued on, "I am _not _a psychic, however. You're right, there's no such thing. But I do have a specific skill set that allows me to work as a consultant for the CBI..." He swallowed hard remembering the scene. He wanted to vomit. His hands began shaking a little bit in anger as he continued the explanation. "A few nights ago, your sister was attacked by a serial killer we've been investigating for years. His name is Red John, and this isn't the first time he's come after someone close to me." He didn't need to explain the part about his family being killed by the same man. He figured they were more worried about their sister.

"Anyway, I went to Lis-...Teresa's apartment and found her in a closet lying in a pool of her own blood." He was staring off at what seemed like nothing, but in his mind he was in her apartment that night, finding her there, helpless and vulnerable and bleeding to her death. "I called 911 and here we are. Now, you're right I am not her husband. You see, I consider Teresa a very close friend, so I've been staying in her hospital room keeping her company." He smiled a bit finding the humour in it, "And well, the nurse's seemed to have gotten the wrong impression, seeing as how they think I'm her husband. Frankly, I just didn't think to correct them. If they knew they might not let me stay, see?" He shrugged as if it were a simple explanation.

"Can I punch him now?" Andrew asked, looking at the other two for confirmation. When the other two simply shrugged and let go of his arms, the oldest brother came barrelling towards Jane and punched him right between the eyes. And he'll be damned if Andrew didn't have his sister's killer right hook as well...

Jane clenched his nose in his hands as it throbbed painfully. "Ow, ow, okay I deserved that. Are we done with the hostility now?" Patrick stumbled back and leant against the wall of the hospital room as the inevitable vertigo hit him.

At the sight of the injured consultant, the three brothers seemed satisfied enough and reluctantly nodded.

"Okay, good. Now, I'm going to get ice for this while you guys can visit Teresa." He searched for the door with his unoccupied hand and exited the room once he found it. He briefly turned back to the room and watched as the three brothers took their spots around her bed. Almost immediately, all the hostility and irritation disappeared, leaving only the heartbroken and vulnerable expressions of brother's seeing their beloved sister in the situation she was. Patrick could only hope that maybe having her brothers there would help her come back to him, to all of them. He could only wonder what was going on in that comatose head of hers, but then quickly realized he was being silly. He turned back towards the hallway and began making his way to find some ice.

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><p>Teresa Lisbon woke up to a buzzing alarm clock and couldn't help but be completely confused. This wasn't her bed; at least it hasn't been since she was fifteen...<p>

No, it couldn't be...?

The last thing she remembered she had been going to bed after a particularly long case with her team. In her apartment. In Sacramento.

She hesitantly got up and looked around. Yes, she was right; this was her old room. The same desk covered in algebra homework, the same posters on her walls... Oh god, this had to be some kind of a terrible nightmare. Swallowing thickly, she got out of bed and made her way towards the bathroom. Her eyes became wide as she saw what was staring back at her in the mirror. She looked down and groaned. This _had_ to be a horrible nightmare. There was no way she could be stuck in her fifteen-year-old body.

She heard a creaking sound come from the stairs and, startled, with a fear she hadn't quite known for many years, she turned her head. But in reply she heard a little voice, whispering "Teresa?" oh-so-hesitantly, and a little head mopped with black hair peeked into the bathroom.

Lisbon held her chest and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Tommy, what are you doing up so early?" Lisbon couldn't help but think this whole thing was weird and she'd lived it before. She felt her heart sink realizing this might not be an awful dream. What if that whole CBI team had been an elaborate dream and this was reality?

"I heard your alarm go off and I was having a nightmare." The little boy who was only seven-years-old pouted up at Lisbon, and she couldn't help but feel sympathy.

"Was it the mom-dream again?" she asked softly, motioning for him to come towards her. Tommy simply nodded before obliging and going towards Lisbon.

Lisbon swept him up in her arms and realized she wouldn't be able to carry him soon if he kept growing like he had been. "Shh, it's going to be okay. I'm here and both of your brothers are here for you too," she said trying to comfort the young brother. "How about you help me make breakfast, quietly so we don't wake dad, for your brothers and get you ready for school? How does that sound?" Tommy simply nodded into her neck.

Putting the young child down, Teresa took his hand and quietly made her way down the stairs with Tommy following. They'd only be able to make eggs and toast if they needed to stay quiet. Though, her father was probably passed out in his room, so he might not even wake up if a marching band ran through the living room. At least, she hoped he didn't.

"Why don't we make some eggs for them?" She smiled at her little brother trying to make him feel better. Tommy just nodded not saying much trying to keep quiet.

They began making breakfast, and Lisbon couldn't help but wonder back to the thoughts of how she was suddenly here in her fifteen-year-old body again. Occasionally she would pinch herself, wondering if she wouldn't wake up from this crazy nightmare. Other times she would wonder if her other life had just been a crazy dream. Frankly she couldn't decide, but she figured that wondering about it would make no real difference. Right now she was back in one of the most important and risky roles of her life; she was responsible for three little people. It was life and death and she needed to be present and alert.

Finally, breakfast was made and two boys made their way down the stairs a little too loudly for Lisbon's comfort. "Shh, you two don't want to wake up dad do you?" she said sternly.

"Geez, sorry, sis," Andrew replied more quietly rolling his eyes. James didn't say anything in fear he might be reprimanded again. "Eggs again? Really?"

Teresa looked sternly at Andrew. "Be grateful I made you this. Some children are starving in some places." He rolled his eyes at her and she simply sighed eating what little she'd given herself. "Are all three of you ready for school?"

All three boys simply nodded, trying to finish up their breakfast so they could make the bus. "Good," Teresa said simply. Once they were all done eating each put their plate into the sink that was piled high with dirty dishes. Teresa knew she'd have to clean that when she got home. "Behave at school you guys," she said sternly before they all boarded the bus.

She watched as each of her brothers climbed onto the bus and followed suit after them. But once she was inside the yellow tin can she couldn't for her life remember where she sat. It had been so long... Tommy and James and Andrew all automatically went for their usual places next to their friends, but she stood hovering at the front of the bus, eyes darting from seat to seat. She wasn't given much time to think before a blonde-haired boy ushered her back to a seat next to him. Teresa hesitantly sat down not remembering this boy at all.

"Hey Teresa, how's your morning?" he asked in a way too eager tone.

"Umm, fine," she replied trying to remember who this kid was. He looked awfully familiar, but she there was no way he was the person he reminded her of... Patrick Jane hadn't gone to high school with her – he hadn't gone to high school _at all!_

"Teresa, you're acting like you have no idea who I am."

She swallowed and then smiled trying to hide her confusion. "Don't be an idiot, of course I know who you are."

The other boy simply smirked and gave her a knowing look. "Oh, yeah? Then tell me, my dear Teresa, what is my name?"

"For one, don't ever call me 'your dear Teresa.' For two, I know your name, I'm just having a bit of amnesia this morning, that's all." She rolled her eyes and folded her arms before looking away from the boy. He reminded her too much of Jane by the way he examined her.

"I'm hurt," he said grabbing his chest and feigning pain, "that you wouldn't remember Patrick Jane, your best friend."

At that Teresa's eyes widened. No, it couldn't be? This had to be some weird kind of dream. She began pinching herself on her arm really hard hoping she'd wake up. How could this be possible? Even in the – completely unreal – chance that she _had _missed the fact that Jane had gone to high school with her, they wouldn't in any universe ever become best friends?

After a split second of silent shock, she reacted the only way she knew how – with violence. She pinned the boy up against the wall of the bus, and brought her face threateningly close to his.

"Listen, I don't know what kind of sick joke or dream this is, but it's not funny, Patrick. If you've hypnotized me or something weird, I swear to God I will brutally murder you when I snap out of it." Her teeth were gritted showing her obvious fury.

The boy's eyes became wide before grinning cockily. "Oh Teresa, if I had hypnotized you, I think you would know. Plus, this is no dream I assure you." She continued to stare at him with piercing eyes. He decided to lean towards her slightly and whisper. "You know, if you don't get off of me people are going to start to think you have the hots for me."

At that, Teresa quickly jumped off of him and wiped her hands down the green shirt. "Ew, it doesn't matter what universe we're in, I will never have the hots for any Patrick Jane." She shivered slightly the thought.

Patrick was about to mention the 'no matter what universe' thing, but decided to store it away for future questioning considering they'd arrived at school. Though he had been a bit hurt by the comment, he knew she didn't mean it. At least in his mind she didn't mean it. As they were exiting the bus, Patrick decided to lean down and whisper, "By the way, that shirt really brings out your beautiful eyes." With that, he was off to some of his other friends.

Teresa blushed before rolling her eyes. Of course Patrick Jane would try to charm her. It didn't matter what universe she was in he would always try to be the 'golden boy.' She was a little confused as to why he was there at all, though. If this was real and her CBI life was a dream, then why was he here? Why, no matter how many times she pinched herself or blinked, she was still stuck in this hell? Was this some kind of sick punishment for something she'd done?

Teresa sighed and entered into school. Crap, how was she supposed to remember her locker combo? In her mind, it had been years since she'd had to remember it. Forget the combo, how was she supposed to remember where her locker was at all? Thankfully, her problems were solved when a friendly red-head approached her. "Hey Teres, we heading to your locker?"

Teresa squinted, trying to remember this girl. She reminded her and awful lot of Van Pelt, but that couldn't be, could it? "Van Pelt," Teresa said almost questioningly.

"Yes, Lisbon," she replied emphasizing 'Libson' in an almost a mocking manner. "What's with the last name deal? You haven't called me Van Pelt since like the beginning of first grade." She smiled at Teresa giving her a funny look.

"It's been a weird morning," she said hoping that would be sufficient enough for now. "Let's just say, it all started with Patrick Jane calling me over to sit with him on the bus and claiming we're best friends." Teresa rolled her eyes. She could only hope she Van Pelt could clear things up for her.

Grace snorted a little bit at that statement. "You and Jane?" She chuckled a little and Teresa couldn't help but agree. "Don't let it bother you. He's probably just messing around with you, just like he's always been since he stole your glue and crayons in the first grade." Teresa didn't have any recollection of that, only a brief foggy image that appeared. "Though, in his defense, he only did it to make you a paper Valentine's heart," Grace said finishing with a cute little smile. She knew Teresa hated that story. It always aggravated Teresa that Patrick could get under her skin, and Grace knew that.

Teresa rolled her eyes. "Did any frogs happen to jump out of that heart?" she asked, remembering the time he'd made her a paper frog as a forgiveness present only to have it jump out at her. _That _memory was clear as day.

"No," Grace replied chuckling a little. "What I do remember is him giving you the heart then you yelling at him for taking your crayons. Though, you didn't exactly throw the card back at him. I believe you ended up keeping it in your desk, but swore Patrick Jane as an enemy from that day forth."Grace chuckled a bit at the memory.

Teresa shook her head. That sounded like her. "That's sounds about right, and I only didn't throw away his card because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I may not like him, but I'm not cruel."

"Yeah, yeah whatever," Grace said before stopping beside a locker. Teresa stepped up to the locker and tried the only combination she could remember, the one to her CBI locker. Luckily, the locker opened to the code and Teresa sighed in relief. She was also relieved to remember she always pinned her schedule to her locker door, so that wouldn't be problem.

"It's true!" She continued defending herself as she grabbed the books she needed out of the locker – inconspicuously scanning the headings on the text books -before following Grace to the classroom. She had a strange feeling they had a lot of the same classes.

"Sure, sure and Rigsby and I didn't like each other freshman year when he first came here." She rolled her eyes before spotting the man in question. "Speaking of which, there he is now with Cho." She grabbed Teresa's hand and began dragging her towards the two before coming to a stop in front of them. "Hey Cho," she said smiling and nodding her head towards him. "Hey Rigsby," she said stepping up and giving him a peck on the lips.

"Hey Grace," Risgby responded doing the same.

"Hey Grace, hey Lisbon," Cho said in a slightly happier voice than what Teresa was used to. Then again, what did she know? She didn't even remember going to school with these guys.

"Come on, let's head to homeroom, guys," Grace said grabbing Rigsby's hand.

When they arrived in homeroom Teresa sat down in what she hoped was her normal seat. When no one objected, she only assumed she was right. However, she started to regret her seat choice when Patrick Jane sat down right behind her. "Nice to see you again Teresa," he said smiling at her. Teresa only rolled her eyes in response. Of course he'd sit behind her.

"Patrick, you're in my homeroom class and you ride my bus. You see me every day at least twice." She turned back around to look towards the teacher as the bell rang. She knew it was only homeroom class, so she really didn't have to pay attention. Instead, she let her mind wander a bit to the incredibly puzzling situation. Her detective's mind quickly went through all the possible causes.

But almost as quickly as she dismissed him, Patrick interrupted her privacy. "Well, you did say you were having amnesia this morning," he leaned forward, whispering _very _close to her ear, and she could practically feel his smirk. "Plus, you actually talked to me this morning. Usually, you just sit next to me and read those stupid textbooks while trying to ignore me."

Of course he would find textbooks stupid. Teresa rolled her eyes, choosing not to respond. She figured if she kept her head straight he'd eventually get tired and quit talking. Though, a part of her knew better.

"Teresa," he whispered, but she didn't respond. "Hey, Teresa." She rolled her eyes. "Teeeerrreeesssaa." He moaned, just load enough for their neighbors to send an annoyed glance their way.

She was getting very frustrated with his antics and was gritting her teeth trying to keep her cold shoulder in place.

"Teresa, I have something that might cheer you up."

She turned her head back to him –only slightly, clearly conveying the message that she wasn't going to have any form of conversation - before angrily whispering back, "What? Is it another paper heart you made out of _my_ crayons and glue?"

The moment the words came out of her mouth, she immediately regretted it. She knew Patrick and she knew he wouldn't be hurt or insulted by such a silly attempt at an insult; in fact, he'd find it endearing. He'd possibly even be flattered that she'd remembered such a cute and special memory.

"Aww, you remembered our first Valentine's Day together." Teresa rolled her eyes wanting to punch him in the face. She could only hope this was the only class period she had with him.

But as the day dragged on she realized that luck was in no way on her side. They had _every period _together, and he was always sitting behind her or beside her or close enough that she could feel the teasing air bounce off from him to annoy her. Great, this was just great.

It was extremely distracting having him stare at her all day – as if her current situation wasn't confusing enough! She could only hope she'd find out how she got here so she could return back to her other life. Patrick Jane was there too, but thankfully he slept on the couch most of the day _there. _

Still, she had to admit, there was something different about this Patrick. He seemed lighter, more carefree, and a lot less careless. She could only assume it was because Red John hadn't murdered his wife and child in this life.

Red John.

A shiver went down her spine as the name popped into her head. Something about the serial killer made Teresa get this strange feeling she couldn't quite get a grasp on. She kept going back to the name hoping it would spark something in her brain, but nothing seemed to come to mind. Only this strange empty hole in her memory that she knew was important but couldn't remember for her life. It was like the time that Carmen had drugged her and framed her for murder...

Red John was an important reason why she was here, but she couldn't place how.

The one thing she did know, however, was that an entire day with Patrick Jane was tiring as hell.

* * *

><p>Patrick Jane walked into the CBI office and looked at his team from the doorway. Van Pelt was diligently at work looking up all Teresa's phone records that would indicate any unknown calls recently. Rigsby was looking through tapes or any recordings that might have picked up some video evidence of Red John entering or exiting. They were well and truly just grasping at straws; they all knew that Red John was too smart and too good at what he did to make a stupid mistake like that...<p>

Cho wasn't at the office, he was at the hospital standing guard at Lisbon's door to make sure she and her brothers were safe.

Patrick was glad that his team was working to help solve Teresa's case. The sooner they caught him, the sooner everything would start becoming okay again. At least, that's what Patrick hoped.

In truth, who knew? They could catch Red John and he could either kill him or send him away for a fair trial – everything that Lisbon had wanted – and it would probably make no difference. Justice certainly won't make Teresa wake up.

The thought weighed heavy on his heart.

Instead of lying around on the couch, waiting for a clue that might never come, Jane decided to drive to Lisbon's house and do some detective work of his own. He wasn't under any illusions that Red John would make a major slip-up and leave his driver's license and a map to his home under the welcome mat or anything, but if there _was _anything, he was the best chance they had. It was definitely no secret that he was the best observer on the police force – as far as he was concerned. Maybe there _was _something and they'd missed it...

TBC


End file.
